


Surprise, Surprise

by damnedapostate (ethydium)



Category: Dragon Age II
Genre: Angst and Fluff and Smut, Anonymous Sex, Glory Hole, Happy Ending, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-09
Updated: 2018-06-16
Packaged: 2019-05-20 03:31:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 8,564
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14886797
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ethydium/pseuds/damnedapostate
Summary: Anders decides to visit a glory hole in Hightown. Accidentally, Fenris has the same idea.(originally a one-shot, turned into a bit more)





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [(W)hole lotta love](https://archiveofourown.org/works/11441826) by [thejourneymaninn](https://archiveofourown.org/users/thejourneymaninn/pseuds/thejourneymaninn). 



Anders went because it was easy. Just a short break from his routine, but he needed to feel something after being surrounded by so much death. He couldn’t handle it. Even with Justice’s warm reassurances in his head, he couldn’t. He needed something solid and tangible.

A glory hole seemed like a correct choice in his situation. He knew there was one in the Hanged Man, but he didn’t really want to meet anyone familiar, not even by accident.

The Tipsy Raven was a much better choice. It was just on the edge of Hightown, but many shady businesses went on in the dark corners. And even if the floors were cleaner and the tables less sticky, it was just the same as any tavern in Kirkwall.

 

Anders favoured the back entry – and always smirked to himself at that – which made him get down the stairs to the lavatory much faster.

He noticed that the adjacent cubicle was occupied and excitement ran through his weary body.

He entered the other one, and closed the door much more vehemently than it was needed, then he cleared his throat and knocked politely on the thin wall.

There was a soft shuffle from the other side, then the cap from the hole opened, and a beautiful, dark skinned cock appeared in front of him.

Anders licked his lips, and nuzzled close to it, inhaling the fresh scent gratefully. It was an unexpected, but nice touch. He showed his appreciation by kissing its length. It wasn’t yet fully erect, but his soft kisses and touches were helping it nicely along the way.

Anders licked it from root to top, circled the flushing head with his tongue in a way that never failed to impress. And yes, judging by the sound of a hitched breathing from the other side, it was successful as ever.

Then he went all in. He got the head nice and sloppy wet, then let the cock slide slowly, but surely deeper and deeper into his mouth, then down his throat.

He kept the suction light in the beginning, but gradually increased it, until he heard a low thump on the other side, as the person he was pleasuring let his fist collide with the wood.

There was an art to this, how he could strip anyone with just his tongue and mouth. He hummed around the length, the thickness of it stretching his mouth comfortably. Oh, he loved a nice thick dick.

And the person on the other side was very polite. He didn’t shove himself down his throat, didn’t shout or call him names. He let him play with his cock as he pleased.

Anders appreciated it a lot. He suddenly let the dick slip from his mouth, and cruelly delighted in the needy whimper he got in answer. No, he wasn’t going anyway, he just wanted to postpone the main act a little bit. He blew on the heated skin, cooling the saliva there. If it wasn’t so forbidden, he’d use magic… but he didn’t need Templars raiding this nice establishment, just because of an innocent blowjob.

He kissed the head softly, then gulped in anticipation, and went all the way down, leaving behind any shyness or finesse. He had a plan to suck this person’s brain out through his dick.

*

Fenris heard about glory holes, but found the idea… quite barbaric. At least at first. Then he wandered into this tavern, and saw a man leave the lavatory with an exceptionally blissed out face. Then the merchant he met up with snickered, and called the person a ‘lucky bastard’.

He wanted to be that lucky bastard too. Just a quick fuck, nobody needed to know about it, especially not tattletale Isabela or Varric. Or Hawke with her sympathetic smile or… _Anders_ with that annoying crinkle around his eyes that made it near impossible not to smile back at him.

But before he could do any… _smiling_ or… inviting the mage over to stay for wine and not leave with the others after card night, Fenris needed experience. Something to not make him a fumbling idiot. He didn’t want to be embarrassed by his awkwardness.

Today he didn’t exactly count on coming into the infamous booth, but his legs guided him inside. The other two were all dirty in one way or the other, and before he could exit, the stranger got in the other cubicle and he couldn’t leave. Not with his stomach churning from excitement.

And oh… he was now absolutely thankful he did not leave.

There was something incredibly erotic about having an anonymous mouth gulp him down eagerly, like it was the best thing that could happen. He felt like an ancient deity being worshipped at an altar.

It was just utterly perfect… he couldn’t even imagine anything more considerate or better. It wasn’t quick, nor too drawn out, just exactly right.

He was slowly, but surely losing his mind, his brain leaking from his ears as the person on the other side was sucking him with such abandon. ~~~~

He had his fist inside his mouth, muffling his whimpers, and the other was clawing at the wall, desperate to sink it into the person’s hair to grab it, to caress it.

Oh, he wanted to praise the person and _beg them_ and tell them to never stop. But he couldn’t. Coming here was risky enough, for a person like him, being so obvious with his tattoos.

He wished it could be different. He wished it could be blond hair, a wicked mouth curling in a half smile, knowing amber eyes glinting at him…

In the height of his passion, he forgot about reality, he forgot about the rules he set for himself, and let it go.

“Oh, _Anders_ ,” he moaned lowly, before he could catch himself.

The mouth stilled on him, but swallowed everything he offered, didn’t leave him in his last moments.

Fenris felt too soft and too happy to care, his brain still not registering his mistake. He came to when he heard the door open and close, then the stomping of feet running away.

What… what happened?

He tucked himself in, then staggered to the other booth. There was a distinct smell of herbs, lyrium and magic. A tell-tale sign of a mage occupying the booth just recently.

A mage who worked with a lot of elfroot and burnt embrium a lot.

 _Fasta vass_ , he knew who the man was. He needed to go to Darktown immediately.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> aaand i'm back w another chapter, enjoy xx

Anders almost ran all the way to his clinic, then he locked the heavy doors behind himself and started pacing.

He gave Fenris a blowjob… and it really happened, he wasn’t dreaming this time!

Before he could truly lose himself in anxiety, he felt his limbs tighten, then release as Justice made him stop and just breathe. He stood there in the dark room, panting alone, the feel of Justice at the edge of his mind calming him down.

Anders moved to light the candles around his clinic to do something and not let his worry control him. It wasn’t even that late, but in Darktown that didn’t mean anything.

Oh, but it was bad. Anders didn’t know it was him, how could he? True, certainly entertained the idea of finally having his lips on Fenris, but he didn’t want to open their relations with an anonymous fuck.

He didn’t want to be a stranger in and out of Fenris’ bed. And most certainly he didn’t want to deceive him! What if Fenris didn’t even like him that way? What if the idea disgusted him? Oh, he was in so much trouble… He was certain Fenris wouldn’t come after him and hurt him, but they were doing so good on the diplomacy part. They didn’t bark at each other anymore, and Fenris even invited him over for cards.

And now it might as well all be ruined, because he had to go and suck him off. He should have recognised his cock, he was sure. The skin tone or the sweet, recognisable smell of lyrium…

The smell of lyrium! Justice surely would have noticed if… but the spirit slinked away from his questioning thoughts.

“Bloody typical,” Anders groaned, feeling unwanted laughter bubble up from him. He had a spirit in him and when it could have been truly useful, Justice decided to not tell him it was Fenris on the other side of the wall.

A sudden knock on his door sobered him from his high spirits. “Oh shit,” he cursed, trying to hide behind a pillar, but knew it was a lost cause.

“Mage?” came the polite question, and Anders sighed. Fenris could walk through his door, or even tear it down. But he didn’t. It might as well be a good sign. “Mage, I need to have a word.”

Anders walked to the door, uttered a short prayer to his absent Maker, then opened his door.

“May I?” asked Fenris, and Anders nodded and stepped aside.

“Please don’t shout on my doorstep that there’s a mage inside,” he murmured reflexively. “Everyone knows but… that doesn’t mean everyone should _know_.”

Fenris blinked and frowned at him, but nodded anyway. “In regards of what happened in the tavern,” he started, while Anders busied himself with locking the door and stepping hurriedly away.

“We can forget about that,” he offered, trying to put distance between them. He wetted his chapped lips with his tongue. Oh, he could still taste him on his tongue.

Fenris caught the movement of his tongue, and stared at it with a longing expression. “I’d rather not.” Fenris said after he gathered his thoughts, but he didn’t move any closer.

“I’m sorry?” Anders tried, wincing at his tone. “I didn’t know it was you.”

“Neither did I recognise you,” Fenris started, but then shut his mouth abruptly. “We can talk about that later. First, I’d like to settle my debt.”

“Your what?” Anders wasn’t quite following.

“My debt to you, mage.” Fenris had the audacity to roll his eyes. “It would be unjust to not reciprocate. A blowjob for a blowjob. A fair exchange.”

Anders couldn’t really think, because his brain couldn’t comprehend that it was really Fenris talking to him about such things.

“Do you object?”

“To a blowjob?” He started to awkwardly find his voice. “Nu-uh, never.”

Fenris’ mouth curled slightly, as he stepped closer. “So do you accept my proposal?”

“Yes, yes of course,” he said, opting for nonchalance, and failing miserably. At least, judging by the knowing look on Fenris’ face. “I mean, if you want to, I guess I could let you do that, yes.” He could have got away with it, if he hadn’t immediately tripped on his own boots.

As he was finding his footing on the treacherously uneven ground, grabbing his desk. Fenris let himself smile widely.

“Alright then.” He marched right up to Anders, who leaned on his desk for support.

Anders quickly shed his coat, as he realised this was really happening. Meanwhile Fenris took off his gauntlets and opened his trousers with deft fingers, and pushed it down to his hips. Which made their faces fall close to each other, sharing the same breath.

Anders wanted to be greedy, just once in his life, and ask for a kiss. Then he saw Fenris’ eyes drop to his lips, and saw the same hunger written on his face than he felt in himself, so he took the chance – and kissed Fenris boldly.

Fenris was surprised, and pulled back immediately, hands still on Anders’ hips.

Anders wanted to apologise, say something, anything, but Fenris soon recovered from his initial shock, and leaned in for a proper kiss.

Just when Anders’ head started to spin, Fenris pulled back with a smug expression, and went to his knees.

Anders couldn’t stop the high pitched whimper from escaping. If he weren’t feeling Justice’s hum under his skin, he would have thought it was one of his dreams.

“Eager, are we?” teased him Fenris, caressing Anders’ naked buttocks.

“W-what makes you say that?” Anders cleared his throat, and shrugged. “I’m ready when you are,” he said in a bored voice.

*

Fenris knew he wouldn’t be able to reciprocate Anders’ blowjob in its full glory. But still, he could try. And judging by the way Anders was trembling in his grasp… maybe he didn’t even have to be remarkable at it. Still, he would try to do his best. As usual.

He kissed the head, and suddenly, cold dread swept through him, as his brain caught up with him and the situation he put himself in.

No, no, he was absolutely incapable to do this. However, it would be so embarrassing to stop now. He promised to Anders… now the mage would laugh and hold him in place which would obviously hurt and—

“Hey, Fenris,” interrupted Anders his train of dangerous thoughts and raised his head gently. “I appreciate the thought, I really do, but if you don’t want to, please don’t do it.”

Fenris averted his eyes, and Anders pulled him upright. “It was so good when you did it, I want to make you feel like that.”

Anders kissed the side of his face, and opened his mouth to say more gentle, sympathetic words, and Fenris was having none of it. He kissed them right out of Anders’ mouth, biting at his lips desperately, but without violence.

Anders was panting when Fenris pulled back for air, his fingers tangled in his blond hair. “If kissing me like _that_ is what you want to do, I’m mighty fine with that.” And there it was, a tiny smile, not mocking at all, just wicked and inviting. It made his eyes crinkle in the exact way that made Fenris’ heart thump wildly in his chest.

Fenris let his hands wander over Anders’ clothed body as they traded gentle and unhurried kisses, until he found his fingers bumping into Anders’ erection.

“Oh, sorry,” mumbled Anders, but Fenris made up his mind. He teased along his length, dipping down to his balls. “Oh, oh, not so sorry then,” chuckled Anders, gripping Fenris’ biceps tightly.

“Do you have some kind of…”

“Yes, I do, yes.” Anders leaned back, until he found a yellowish potion bottle. “This will have to do.”

Fenris dipped his fingers inside the bottle, and smeared some over Anders’ cock. It smelled strongly like dawn lotuses which was actually very nice.

Fenris put Anders on the table, making the mage groan and eye him with an awestruck expression. But then wrapped his hands around him, and Anders was busy gasping from pleasure.

*

Anders felt light-headed already, and when Fenris’ hot mouth found his neck, he thought he might faint from arousal. The way Fenris was meticulously gentle and kissed him constantly, biting at him, testing his reaction.

Anders promised himself, he wouldn’t interfere with Fenris’ plans – mainly, because of his big scare just before, but passively taking it was never really his style. Not unless he was bound tightly by ropes. But it was a thought for later.

He sneaked his hands over Fenris body, checking where to caress and tug to make Fenris groan into his skin, and tighten his grip over him.

And with dexterity any rogue could have envied, he pushed Fenris leggings down with his legs. “Try it this way, see how you like it,” he murmured as he guided Fenris to wrap his fingers over both of them with a help of a little more salve.

It felt incredible, and a bit more mutual. Fenris showed his appreciation, but kissing him soundly, knocking their teeth together in his eagerness.

Anders was loving every second of it. And another, selfish reasoning was behind this idea – he really wanted to see Fenris come this time. Not just hear him muffled from the other side of a wall, but see his face through it all.

He forced his eyes to stay open when the sensations overrode his self-restraint and he came all over Fenris’ fingers, drops of it smearing over their heated flesh.

Fenris’ eyes widened in surprise, his plush lips forming a delighted ‘o’ and he followed Anders over the edge. Anders was glad he didn’t miss his expression; it was most certainly _adorable_.

“Was this,” started to ask Fenris, but he wasn’t looking at Anders. And that couldn’t stand. “acceptable?”

Anders flattened his palm onto the side of Fenris face, and kissed his nose, then his mouth, when Fenris finally raised his head. “ _Acceptable_ is a weak word for it, Fenris.”

Fenris coughed a little to hide his tiny giggle, but Anders didn’t miss it. “Alright then.”

After another couple dozens of kisses, each bleeding into a new one, Fenris extracted himself from Anders’ hug and pulled up his clothes.

Anders did the same, and hid his grin as he saw Fenris shuffle his feet awkwardly. A brave warrior who could cleave ogres five times his size in two, who shouted angrily at spirits haunting his mansion to get out, who wasn’t afraid of literally anything… but it turned out he didn’t have any bedside manners.

Not that Anders had a lot of experience with this. Usually people were quick to be out on their way. The longest time Anders spent with anyone after sex was with Karl, but that… that was different.

“So…” he started awkwardly. They should talk, shouldn’t they.

“Do you go there often?” asked Fenris, out of the blue. “To the Tipsy Raven?”

“To the tavern?” Anders shrugged. “Sometimes. Some of my… associates favour it.” Fenris’ face turned a little weird at that. “There aren’t a lot of Templars, you see.”

Fenris nodded, balancing on his feet awkwardly. “I see.”

Anders frowned at him. “Oh do you mean the special booth downstairs?” Fenris’ face reddened, but he nodded. “No, I never. Today… today was different. Do you?”

“No, me neither,” Fenris shook his head, suddenly feeling lighter for some reason. “It was a nice coincidence, meeting you there.” This much he could admit.

Anders’ beamed at him, eyes crinkling at the sides. “ _Nice_ , indeed,” he said, biting his lips to stop himself from laughing.

Fenris smirked too, and he was about to open his mouth and say something utterly stupid, along the lines of ‘please let’s do it again tomorrow or right now’, but he couldn’t. A loud knock came from the door, interrupting any further conversation.

The door opened, as the lock was picked, the knock only a polite warning, and Hawke marched in with an apologetic smile and Isabela at her side. She didn’t seem perturbed by picking the locks of Anders’ clinic. Not at all.

“Anders,” Hawke greeted the mage with a smile, and when she saw Fenris, him too. “And Fenris! What a surprise!”

“A surprise, indeed,” hummed Isabela, her eyes twinkling with mischief. Fenris frowned at her, but he had long since learnt it was useless anyway. “I wonder what you were doing behind closed doors.”

“Isabela, just as I don’t tell Fenris for what I treat you, I won’t tell you either.” Then Anders turned to Fenris with a conspiring grin. “But I should warn you, pirates tend to dock in unsavoury places.”

Fenris couldn’t help his smirk, but then he realised – he shouldn’t. There was no reason he shouldn’t share a joke with Anders.

“Look at you, giggling like adolescent children,” murmured Hawke, but there was unmistakable pride in her voice. “I don’t want to sour the mood, but I need your help on the Coast. Some noble’s daughter had been kidnapped. What do you think, Anders?”

“You ask me as if you gave me any choice in the matter,” sighed Anders, but he was already turning back to pack healing potions and injury kits in his bag.

“Come on, it’s going to be fun!”

“Unfortunately not the kind of fun you guys were having in here,” said Isabela with a saucy smile. She came closer to drape herself over Fenris, hugging his shoulders close.

“I don’t know what you’re referring to,” lied Fenris, poking her in the ribs, careful not to hurt her too much.

Once outside, Isabela still didn’t stop to pester him. “Come on, Fenris, spill the beans. What happened?”

“Nothing, Isabela. I just got to know a _hole_ new side of Anders.”

Isabela just stared at her with huge eyes, but Anders spluttered and almost choked on his own laughter.

“Come, Bela, leave the boys alone with their ridiculousness,” sighed Hawke, and pulled Isabela forward, using the opportunity to hold hands with her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> stay tuned for more plot & kisses


	3. Chapter 3

Fenris worried Isabela would tease them more, but she soon stopped it entirely. He thought that was the end of it, but of course, it wasn’t. Two days later he went to the Hanged Man, because it was Wicked Grace night, and it was compulsory to attend. Well, not really, but Varric usually paid for drinks that day and it was too much of a temptation to say no to that.

As soon as he entered the tavern, Isabela waved her over to the bar. Fenris considered slipping past her and marching straight into Varric’s room… but that might mean she would pester him in front of an audience. He’d rather have it here without Hawke’s meddling company. Or Anders’ knowing eyes. Those beautiful, honey coloured brown… oh, he was doing it again.

“Isabela,” he greeted her gruffly, trying to hide his embarrassment.

“Here, have a drink, Fenris, you look like you need it.” And with that, she pushed a glass of lukewarm wine in his hand.

Fenris accepted it and took a large gulp. Judging by Isabela’s smirk, he really did need it.

“So, I have some sources who told me the most interesting things.” Isabela started, leaning on the counter to make her figure more appealing. Fenris learnt not to trust her languid stance. She usually lulled people into complacency by her beauty. “That you visited the Tipsy Raven a couple days ago.”

“Interesting. Are you sending people to watch me, like Aveline does?”

“Oh, don’t be ridiculous. It’s a nice tavern… a bit too dull for my taste. Did you know there’s a special booth downstairs, hm? It’s…”

“As much as it would amuse me to hear you continue this tale, the answer is yes, Isabela.”

“Yes to what?”

“Everything, probably. And more.” He intended to joke, but his voice sounded dull and hard.

Isabela straightened from the bar and dropped the act. “Oh, sweet thing,” she murmured and patted his shoulder gently, not trying to poison the situation with fake flirtations. “It’s real then?”

“Hardly,” snorted Fenris, but he tried to smirk through it. “But I wish it was,” he admitted in a near whisper, and understanding shone in Isabela’s eyes. Oh she got it, of course she did.

“And what does Anders say?” Isabela doubted Anders would be careless about Fenris’ feelings, but he could easily get lost in his big head.

“We didn’t… talk about it. It only happened two days ago and then we went straight to the Coast… and then we all went home, and the next day he was in the clinic all day and I couldn’t bother him, I didn’t want to and today is game night, so I thought we would meet anyway.” Fenris stopped abruptly, embarrassed at talking this much and sipped his wine to shut his mouth.

Isabela didn’t laugh at him, just nodded solemnly. “I’m sure you wouldn’t have bothered him yesterday, Fenris. Anders is a busy man, but he would never turn away a serious heart-to-heart. He’s cheesy like that.” Fenris hummed, staring at the old wood of the bar. His gauntlets easily pierced the soft surface. “Talk to him, I’m telling you he will understand.”

Fenris nodded at that, then swirled his wine around in his mug. “To know that someone wants to fuck me isn’t new to me,” he whispered, bracing himself and turning to face Isabela. He saw the same expression mirrored on her face. Of course, she knew what _that_ felt like. “But to know that this someone actually cares….” He let the end of the sentence hang in the air.

Isabela sighed, a long worried sound. The truth of what he said resonated with her, as her thoughts slowly crawled towards Hawke, but then she shuddered, shaking the sentiment from her mind. “Maker save us from mages who care,” she said, but at the end she was smiling already.

Fenris nodded, gulping his wine thirstily. It wasn’t easy to voice these concerns. “And he’s a _mage_ ,” he added as an afterthought. “The irony,” he huffed. The fact that he wasn’t scandalised by the thought should have shocked him.

But he came to terms with having a hopeless crush on a mage years ago. He crushed Danarius’ heart in his own hands, in this same tavern. After that he vowed to shake the shackles of his past, the hate, the inferiority he constantly felt. Maybe, loving a mage was just as right as choosing to eat apples, but leaving the cores intact. As a free man he had his own free will to do as he liked.

“It does make a funny story, yes,” agreed Isabela. Then she nudged his shoulder with hers. “All I can say is… don’t steal a sacred tome and then run away with it. It might not be appreciated.” Fenris huffed and nudged her back playfully. “But enough small talk, let’s go upstairs and have some fun.”

Fenris shrugged, the thoughts still swirling around in his head. “I think I might stay a little and—”

“And brood?” laughed Isabela. “Please don’t, everyone’s already there.”

That made Fenris pause. “Everyone?”

“Yes, that’s what I said, didn’t I?”

*

Anders walked into Varric’s room, desperate to finally have a seat and wind down a little. He had a long, tiring day, spent daydreaming about brown fingers wrapped around him and sweet kisses on his neck and mouth, teeth biting into his skin. The _usual_. 

Now he was absolutely ready to unwind, drink some watered down ale, and suffer the teasing about his terrible cardplaying technique. But before he could make another step inside, Hawke was barrelling into him, and pushed him outside.

“Anders, I have a serious question about frost spells,” she said impatiently, and pulled him to a neighbouring, thankfully empty room. 

“Frost spells?” Anders wondered, crossing his arm in front of his chest. “You promised not to try anymore after you froze Varric’s fingers to Bianca for the fifteenth time.” Hawke grinned at the memory and Anders sighed deeply. “Or you don’t even want to talk about magic. What is it then?”

“I heard some interesting things,” she started, but Anders was absolutely in no mood for this.

“Rumours, Hawke? You live in Hightown for a couple of years, and suddenly you’re a tattletale? Pray tell me, what’s the word?” He thought he would humour her, once in a blue moon.

Hawke frowned at his sarcasm, but she didn’t lose her joviality. “The word is that Fenris got lucky the other day,” she said smugly.

Anders levelled her with an unimpressed look. “Interesting,” he said coldly. “And what does this have to do with me?”

“Oh,” she giggled, blue eyes glinting dangerously. “I think it was entirely _done_ with you.”

Anders gaped like a fish, trying to cover his surprise. “Oh, well, you know how people talk…” he babbled on, like an idiot.

“ _Anders_ , please!” Hawke grabbed his arms, rubbing at them to calm him. Carver was the same as a child. Had the biggest mouth until someone mentioned something embarrassing. She didn’t want to torture Anders, just coax the truth out of him. “This is good news!”

Anders stared at her, doubtful as ever. “Really?”

“Wait, is it not?” Now Hawke seemed doubtful. “I was merely teasing you, but I’m happy if you are.”

Anders blinked at her, then smiled softly. He knew how much she actually meant it. Marian Hawke with her big blue eyes and innocent smile… A mage who would tear anybody in four for even suggesting any harm done to her friends. Anders saw it once, and the sight will never leave him. A warm, cherished memory to remember forever.

“I’m not sure it wasn’t a onetime fling, Hawke,” he admitted with a frown. “Don’t get your hopes up, alright?”

“We’re talking about Fenris and you, right?” Hawke gently shook with a smile. Sometimes she forgot how much stronger she was. Anders felt his bones rattle in his skinny body. “Both of you are incapable of such.”

Anders frowned once again. He knew Fenris and Hawke were good friends, but this comment made him think just how close they actually were. “And how do you know that?”

“After braiding each other’s hair, we usually talk about our feelings,” said Hawke with a shit-eating grin, but thankfully she stepped back. “And _boys_.”

Anders sighed, feeling laughter bubble up in him. Hawke would talk about ‘boys’ if the Void froze over. There wasn’t a bone in her body interested in them. Which made him feel like a fool for getting jealous for even a fraction of a minute.

“Still, it isn’t like how you think it is,” murmured Anders.

“Then how it is really? Enlighten me, serah mage.” Hawke stood there, unmovable, and Anders knew he had to spill his guts, unless he wanted to stay in this tacky room all night.

“It’s… I don’t know, Hawke.” He opened his arms wide and shrugged. “It’s new and fragile. We didn’t even talk about it, really. It happened two days ago, then before I could inquire about his intentions, you and Isabela barged in. And I couldn’t have the talk while beating up bandits, could I? But before I know it, we all went home, and then I was busy in the clinic all day, and when I finally gathered my thoughts, I had to come here and… well, there’s that.”

Hawke was smiling at him softly, and nodding along his words. “I understand fully.”

“I don’t want to scare him away, Hawke,” Anders admitted in a small voice. “I don’t want to fuck this up.”

Hawke stepped closer, and pulled Anders in a bear hug, then patted his back gently. “There, there, Anders.” And with a final tightening of her arms, she let him go. “You won’t, I promise. Open communications and absolute honesty is key.” She grinned and added. “And lots and lots of magic in the bedroom.”

Anders snorted at that, but then said, “Thank you, Hawke. I will keep that in mind.”

“Now let’s play some cards, shall we? If I can distract Isabela long enough, you might have a chance of winning, Anders.”

“It depends,” murmured Anders. “Is your dog playing too?”

Hawke snorted, and nudged him out of the room. “I promise Princess Cupcake will go easy on you.”


	4. Chapter 4

Thanks to Isabela’s not so subtle manoeuvring, Fenris ended up sitting on Anders’ side. Which was nice, and really, everyone around the table pretended to not know anything about the newest update regarding their situation.

But seeing Merrill prattle on about her new friend in the alienage, and Aveline grumbling about Hawke breaking Kirkwall law left and right, maybe Isabela and Hawke didn’t share their meddling with the rest of them. Even Varric seemed more interested in Merrill’s new friend and their game now, than in them right now. It could have been an act, but Fenris had a suspected Varric couldn’t leave the matter alone if he really knew.

Sebastian was calmly looking at his cards, and well, he would really make some kind of comment if he knew Fenris even glanced in Anders’ direction. Fenris considered the priest a good friend, but he was more than aware of the bad blood between the mage and him. Now that Fenris thought about it, he really didn’t know why was Sebastian still hanging out with their ragtag group. Sure, Hawke helped him with whatever he needed, but she never minced her words around him. On more than one occasion she flat out told him to shut it, and once she threatened him by saying she’d push her _unholy_ mage stuff where the Sun doesn’t shine.

The situation was diffused by Varric snickering and telling them that judging by the stories he heard about Sebastian’s young life, it wouldn’t be the most unholy thing that happened to Sebastian’s backside. Since then, Sebastian was only silently disapproving of Hawke’s actions and her friends.

And even though Fenris liked Sebastian, he was on the opinion Hawke was too soft on him, but she couldn’t help it. She would have been the same with anyone who lost their family and home too.

All in all, the night was going rather well. Isabela was distracted by Hawke’s hand on her thighs, so even Anders had a chance to win. But still, Anders didn’t do it once. It seemed like he was either too distracted or even after almost a decade, he still couldn’t grasp the rules.

Fenris pulled his chair a little closer, and leaned in to ask Anders softly. “Mage, may I help?”

Varric furrowed his brows and opened his mouth to comment, but then Merrill’s bony elbow collided with his ribs roughly.

“Daisy, what—”

“Did I tell you I suspect there is a werewolf in the Alienage?” Varric blinked at her, but he couldn’t say no to those huge green eyes, so he listened to her tale without interruption.

Sebastian also frowned at Fenris, but before he could say anything, Aveline kicked him in the shin. Then shook her head vehemently, which made him shut up, but not stop the disapproving frowning.

Hawke grinned at her friends proudly, and patted Isabela’s thigh happily. “A job well done,” she said.

“Sweet thing, this isn’t nowhere near done,” replied Isabela. Hawke moved to pull her hand away, but Isabela subtly put her hand over hers. Then turned to Merrill. “So are we going wolf hunting?”

*

In Anders’ defence, when he played with the Wardens, he didn’t have to sit next to a handsome elf with whom he didn’t know where was up and down. This was why Anders always messed up and forgot if daggers or serpents were better to have in his hand on a good day, but when Fenris was close to touch, his brain just refused to cooperate.

So the offer of help was especially welcome. More so because it came from Fenris. Huddling close over cards was a great excuse to talk to each other softly.

“So now… I should put down my Serpent, but not my Song, right?”

“Yes, that’s right,” replied Fenris, purposefully not glancing at Isabela. He knew she was physically restraining herself not to comment on Anders’ _serpent_.

With Fenris’ diligent help, Anders managed to not lose, just this once. It was also largely thanks to the fact that Sebastian was too busy to gape and evade Isabela’s or Aveline’s kick to cheat. As soon as they all threw in their cards, Sebastian stood.

“Going already?” asked Merrill with a pout. But to Anders, she seemed a little sarcastic.

“No, I’m buying the next round for the table,” Sebastian replied, then left in a hurry.

The next rounds were much more loud and boisterous – Anders wasn’t afraid to ask questions from Fenris, just so he could see his nose wrinkle as he thought about the best way to help Anders. In some cases, he even sacrificed his own game to help Anders.

It was an innocent gesture, but it warmed Anders from his toes to the top of his head. If asked, he would have blamed his flush to the ale he uncharacteristically indulged in. True, Anders only raised his mug to his face to hide a smile and to have an excuse for his redness. But judging by Hawke’s mischievous grin, he wasn’t sneaky at all.

What could Anders do. He was a mage, not a rogue to excel at stealth attacks. Still, Fenris didn’t pull his chair back, but remained close to his side, so it could easily be considered a victory. And it lasted through the whole night, making it one of the best event Anders participated in.

He was actually sorry to see the night end, but they really couldn’t play forever. The cards were already swimming in front of his eyes, serpents slithering around angels and daggers piercing through songs.

Anders stood in front of the Hanged Man with Fenris as his side – he couldn’t quite believe they could actually live together without any comments made, but Hawke seemed determined in her quest to cease any awkwardness they had to face. Anders was thankful, but now in the open street, there weren’t anyone to diffuse the tension between them.

“So,” he started, pointing to the stairs leading to Darktown. “It’s been fun,” he added, backing away towards his route.

Fenris smiled at him, but his eyes widened and he caught his hand. “Ma—,” he started, then coughed awkwardly. “Anders, let’s go somewhere else.”

And without waiting for Anders to reply, Fenris pulled him towards the ascending stairs leading to Hightown. Anders went with him without a sound, because Fenris murmured, “Don’t look back.”

Once they were away from the Hanged Man, almost at the market place, Fenris stopped in his track. He looked back, searching the dark streets with narrowed eyes. “I apologise for the rough treatment, but there were Templars going down to Darktown.”

Anders wasn’t surprised, he figured something like this must have spooked Fenris. “Oh, it’s alright,” he waved carelessly. “I could have just gone back inside and waited another hour or so until they got bored with harassing the rats.”

“I thought it would be better if you didn’t return to the clinic tonight. I’m sure Hawke wouldn’t mind meeting you in the foyer. Or…” Fenris shuffled his feet awkwardly, checking if he stepped into something or not. “Or you could spend the night in the mansion, there is enough space to entertain a guest.”

Anders chuckled, and leaned down until he could catch Fenris’ eyes. “Sounds fun, I love a slumber parties.”

“Then come, let us be on our way,” said Fenris with a faint smile on his lips. And there was just enough light for Anders to catch it.

*

As they walked through the dark paths, they bummed together occasionally, as if being pulled together by invisible magnetism. Even through his thick coat, Anders felt tingles in his arms whenever he collided gently with Fenris. It was oddly romantic to saunter through the streets, side by side, unseen by others. Anders could entertain the fantasy they were just two normal Hightown citizens going home from a drinking.

“This is nice,” he murmured, and caught Fenris smirking.

“Up until another gang happens upon us. Don’t tempt fate, mage,” Fenris replied silently. “Let’s hurry. I cannot wait to be home.”

Anders hid his grin into the collar of his coat. Fenris didn’t even notice, but he tended to call his mansion ‘home’ more frequently these days. It was good to see the elf make a genuine home in this shithole of a city. Anders felt a tiny flicker of admiration for him – Fenris was always so strong in his independence.

 “Come, please watch your step.” Fenris ushered him in, checking twice if they were followed. Some habits were hard to break.

Anders realised it was complete darkness in the mansion, so he searched for Fenris’ hand blindly. When he found it, he felt Fenris’ fingers tighten around his.

“I’m afraid I can’t really see in this darkness,” Anders explained shyly. He could have conjured some light, but the sudden closeness felt comforting.

“Don’t worry, I won’t let you go.”


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Now, let's talk about our feelings.

Fenris held onto Anders tightly, just as he promised. He led Anders up the stairs to the room he preferred. Inside, there was more light thanks to the lanterns on the street.

“I could light the fire,” offered Anders, pointing at the fireplace with his free hand.

“Great, I’ll bring blankets.” Then, reluctantly, Fenris let go of Anders’ hand, turning away to do as he promised.

Anders lit the fire, and warmed his hand over the flames. It was surprisingly chilly inside the mansion. He then stood, and hung his coat on the back of a chair.

Fenris came back shortly, without his armour, but arms full of blankets and pillows. Anders went to help him, and together and they made a little nest of pillows and blankets in front of the fireplace. Then they sat in the middle, shoulders almost touching, to warm themselves by the fire.

Fenris cleared his throat, not knowing how to start. It wasn’t easy to voice his thoughts, there were just so many things he wanted to tell Anders.

“Tonight was fun,” said Anders, trying to ease the mood.

“It was, yes,” agreed Fenris. “Turns out you’re not so helpless with cards, you just needed a little help.”

“Surprising, I know,” huffed Anders. “I’m telling you, the rules were different in Ferelden.”

“So you were doing better with the Wardens? I hardly believe it. Your face is too expressive.”

Anders looked stunned, then smiled widely. “Well, thank you.”

Fenris blushed, and turned to the fire. “You’re welcome.” It wasn’t even intended as a compliment. Anders face was breath-taking, soft, charming… beautiful. But he said expressive. Better than nothing. But Anders was right, the night was indeed enjoyable. So Fenris gathered his wits and said, “If you don’t mind, I’d like to spend more time with you.”

This made Anders’ smile turn into a wicked grin. “Fenris, if you want to have sex, there’s a perfectly good bed behind us.”

Fenris winced and he shook his head vehemently. “This isn’t what I meant, mage. I want to get to know you. Not just roll around in the sheets. But if that’s what _you_ want, then—”

Anders put his hand on his, and looked apologetic. “Sorry, Fenris, I don’t want that. I’d love to get to know you, too. It’s just,” he shrugged carelessly. “Oh, you _know_.”

“No, I don’t,” groaned Fenris, but he turned his hand in Anders’, intertwining their fingers together.

“Most people don’t bother with apostates.” Anders’ confession made him sound too small, as he hunched over himself, gaze firmly on Fenris’ fingers around his. “I didn’t want to assume too much.”

Fenris wanted to make a joke about how neither of them were like most people, but then changed his mind. “Is that want you want then?” he asked hopefully.

“Yes,” he replied, eyes crinkling around the edges. “Very much so. It’s lame anyway that we’ve been fighting together for years, and we don’t know nothing about each other.”

“I wouldn’t go as far,” hummed Fenris. “I know that you like cats and prefer to swing your staff from left to right… so I also know that you’re left handed.”

Anders laughed, and nodded along in agreement. “You’re right, yes. Figures this is what you noticed about me.”

“I had to. Merrill is ambidextrous, and she,” Fenris sighed in exasperation, “managed to knock me in the head a lot in the first months. I forgot to duck.”

Anders didn’t supress his giggles. He hadn’t seen it, because Hawke never really took him and Merrill on the same journeys. “Is this why Hawke takes Aveline to Sundermount and not you?”

“Yes, and I also don’t think Merrill’s very fond of me,” explained Fenris.

“No, she doesn’t like me either. We have been… rather rude to her, if I think about it.”

“Yes, we were,” agreed Fenris. “Especially on the first time we met her.” Anders hummed in agreement, remembering the night in the Hanged Man. “I don’t know what Hawke sees in her… but I also didn’t understand what she saw in you before.”

“And now you do?” asked Anders cheekily.

“Well, you’re very useful to have around. Health potions can only do so much.”

“You ass,” murmured Anders, nudging him with his shoulders. Their hands were still holding each other’s, so his ire was only pretended.  

“On a more serious note, I know magic has its uses,” murmured Fenris, tightening his hold on Anders hand, to make him listen carefully. “And that not… all mage is a terrible abom- _monster_.”

“Do you? Do you really?” asked Anders with a serious frown. “Because I know we had our disagreements in the past about that.”

“Yes. I can’t promise there won’t be any in the future, either. But during my time here, I’ve seen the Gallows, I’ve seen what mages pushed into a corner are capable of. And I’ve also seen Hawke help elves when nobody believed them. Did you know she was ready to stand between Aveline and does two elves? Who sought refuge with the Qunari?” Anders nodded. Hawke had a serious discussion about it with Aveline, and the responsibility of the guards. “And I’ve seen what you’ve been doing here.”

“I’m afraid, I’m not the best example, really,” murmured Anders, scratching the back of his neck. “You should have only mentioned Hawke.”

“It’s not only your clinic, Anders. And that you…,” his eyes skimmed over. “I don’t know why you joined with your _spirit_ ,” he emphasised the word, just to be sure, “but I never really asked either. And now, knowing you better, I’m pretty sure you had a good reason for it. And you help people in Darktown, without caring about your own welfare. Meanwhile Chantry sisters are demanding money from the penniless in Lowtown.”

“Thank you,” mumbled Anders, clearly embarrassed by this. “It means a lot to me that you _noticed_.”

“Let me guess, not many people do.” Anders nodded, his eyes a bit shiny around the edges. “Just because I don’t go on and on about something, it doesn’t mean I’m unaware of it.” Then he turned closer to Anders, shuffling closer on the blanket. “Look, Anders, I’m not a revolutionary.”

“And I am, and… you don’t like that.”

“It scares me, mage, that you’d willingly stick out your neck for people you don’t even know.”

“Oh,” murmured Anders, mulling over his words. “This… is a surprise.”

Anders felt out of his depth, so he turned to face Fenris completely, and laid his other hand on top of Fenris’. “That you feel this way, it’s marvellous. I wanted to make you see for so long, because sometimes… I feel like I’m alone against the world. And to know that you grant me the courtesy to even entertain my side of the argument, it is huge.”

Fenris felt his face heat from the grandiose nature of Anders’ gesture. He couldn’t even say anything, just nodded with his throat suddenly dry as Seheron’s beaches.

“So how do you want to do it?” asked Anders, pulling his hands away, and patted his thighs twice, to get some of his nervous energies out. “Do you want to go on dates?”

It was a sudden change in topic, but Fenris was more than fine with it. “Yes, that’s a favourable course of action. Do you have any ideas?” he asked nervously, because most certainly, he did not. Fenris was a real novice at a life of a free elf.

“Maker, yes,” moaned Anders, eyes alight with bright glee. “I’ve been planning this for a long time.”

“Have you been thinking about going on dates with me?” Fenris frowned at Anders as if he grew an additional head suddenly.

“Well, this is awkward,” stammered Anders, and shrugged. “But I didn’t plan them with anybody in particular.” Fenris nodded reluctantly, obviously not understanding. “When I first came here, it was clearly with Karl in mind, and after that it was just a way of keep my sanity, a simple daydream I had.”

Fenris hummed. “Karl, he was… your friend? The one we…” Then he stopped speaking because of the bittersweet smile on Anders’ face.

“He was more than my friend, Fenris. We loved each other dearly.” Anders sighed deeply. “And he died by my hand. One more thing the Chantry had taken from me.”

Fenris got the sudden urge to hug Anders, but he didn’t dare to break the moment, so he just leaned closer and patted Anders on the shoulder awkwardly.

Anders smiled at him, a tired, sad little tug of his lips. “Thank you.”

Fenris shuffled closer to try and change the bitter subject onto something lighter. “I would very much like to know about these dates you’ve planned, mage.”

“Half the fun is in the surprise, Fenris,” said Anders. He knew it was a way to get distract him from the sadness, and he sincerely appreciated it. “But I’ll tell you some things, so you’ll know how to dress.” Seeing Fenris’ brows shoot up, Anders added with a soft laugh, “I don’t mean anything ridiculous, just that to some places an armour isn’t ideal.”

“Oh, I see, that makes sense.”

“For example we could go to the Tipsy Raven.”

Fenris grinned widely at him. “Oh, I’d love that very much.”

Anders snorted at that. “They also serve decent food there, you know. And…,” he hesitated, stalling by drawing idle shapes onto Fenris’ thighs. “I mean, we can go _downstairs_ too, if you want but…” he paused again, raising his eyes at Fenris. “I would rather be intimate with you where I can see you fully. And touching isn’t limited by a wall.”

Fenris caressed his hands over Anders’ shoulder, until he cupped the sides of his face. “Touching you has its perks, yes.”

Anders didn’t know if it was him or Fenris who leaned in, but the next moment they were kissing again, just slowly caressing each other’s lips. It was a languid kiss that told what they couldn’t quite say yet, but the sentiment was already there.  

“And I couldn’t kiss you over a wall,” murmured Anders.

“That would be a serious loss, really,” agreed Fenris. In response, Anders kissed his nose. “Come to bed, Anders, it’s more comfortable than the ground.”

*

Safely under the blankets, Anders had to agree. Fenris bed was indeed a good place to be, as it was long enough for him to stretch out completely.

The only problem was that Fenris lay a bit further away, but Anders didn’t hesitate to scout closer to him. “Do you know what else is a bed good for?”

Fenris felt his heartbeat quicken, and he gulped in anticipation. “What?” he asked, voice suddenly breathless. Multiple idea raced through his mind, each dirtier than the previous.

“Cuddling!” Anders exclaimed, opening his arms.

Fenris rolled into the embrace, too surprised to say anything. He was so convinced Anders was going to say something dirty, now that they were in the same bed. But instead of that, Anders used his long limbs to wrap around him completely.

“Are you comfortable?” Anders asked in a low murmur.

“I am; this is… nice.” Fenris let himself relax into the embrace. Anders kissed the top of his head, and hummed contently. It was indeed unexpectedly comforting to feel Anders’ body surround his, even though it felt like a grip of an octopus. But there were no slimy tentacles, just warm hands around him, and soft kisses peppered along his face.

For the first time in years, he didn’t have a hard time falling asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the end guys. It might be abrupt as I planned to write more, but then I ran out of stories to tell. It was supposed to have a bit more fluff and dates, then some soft getting together.   
> It's the end, thank you for reading!


End file.
